ClinkShrink climbs things all the time. She crawls up these huge vertical ledgy rocks and then rappels down them like Spiderman. It's very athletic, but not very dignified looking. I think it's how she directs her adrenaline risk-taking protoplasm, because in real life, she lives this life of law-abiding citizen, nun look-a-like, low profile, tuna-for-lunch with white milk, kind of soul who just happens to like working with mentally ill violent felons. It's a disconnect and the Spiderman thing connects-the-dots.
So yesterday, I went hiking. I hiked to the top (well, almost, I got to the bald part of the mountain, minus the skin on the front of my leg, and decided the view from almost-the-top was just fine). It was described as a "very popular 4.7 mile hike with well-marked paths, the easiest of the Adirondacks high peaks." What it didn't say was that it was 2.4 miles straight up, a giant stair-case of boulders, with none of those wimpy switchback things to make for some level hiking. And 2.4 ish miles of scrambling straight back down.
Perhaps 30 people passed me. I was climbing with my youngster--a high school athlete in the midst of training for pre-season, and my husband who has recently lost 30 pounds with a regimen that includes 4-5 miles/day of running. I gained 12 pounds last year, and this summer I let my gym membership lapse for the first time since 1996. Let's just say I was holding up the rear.
ClinkShrink does these things all the time. She's older than I am and she looks like a nun. A skinny, athletic nun, but still.
I was offered water, by a stranger. I was offered a first aid kit, by a stranger. And I was offered Motrin, by a stranger. I came back and crawled into the hot tub with a glass of wine. It was some comfort that husband and kid were also sore and complaining.
Oh, this is a psychiatry blog, you say. Where's the psychiatry? It's August, the shrinks go on vacation, and so for the moment this is a vacation blog.
But I have now climbed the 36th highest peak of the Adirondacks.